


Bare

by makapedia



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makapedia/pseuds/makapedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He rumbled behind her, his voice rough with fascination. “You’d blow them all out of the water.” // Skinny dipping wasn't really Maka's forte.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bare

“PARTAAAAAY!” **  
**

Black*Star dropped his shorts, mooned the lot of them and canonballed into Kid’s pool. Someone whimpered – it could’ve been Tsubaki or Kid, honestly, Maka wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Patti leapt in right behind him, sans clothing and fists high in the air.

Maka slowly shot a glance to her partner. He was not oogling Patti, thank goodness, and instead had taken to jamming his hands into his pockets and looking any and everywhere but the pool, where Black*Star had taken to commanding that they “GET IN THE POOL RIGHT NOW MORTALS” or else he’d “INTRODUCE THEM TO THE WRATH OF A GOD.”

She squirmed where she stood and shuffled closer to the safety of her partner. There was power in numbers, and while Soul might not’ve been the best fighter, he at least looked intimidating. Their friends didn’t need to know that her partner was a closeted lap dog and all around puppy, and that he spent his time lounging on the couch in his pajamas with his head in her lap. For the time being, she’d let them think he was more shark than man, all sharp teeth and frightening red eyes.

Kim dove into the pool and Maka shot Soul another look. If he caught a peek of Kim’s (admittedly) nice ass, he didn’t show it. Jackie squawked and Kim beckoned her in, raising herself out of the water enough for Maka to realize just how busty her fellow lady meister was.

Soul looked particularly mournful, and perhaps there was something to be said about the downsides of being a faithful weapon. He sympathetically watched Jackie swim toward her meister, her bare back slender and regal amidst the moonlight.

“What the hell,” Liz laughed. “Move over, Patti!”

She ripped her shirt off, stuffed it at Kilik, who looked as though he’d just met Jesus, and dove gracefully into the pool. He followed suite and Soul grunted, hovering closer to Maka and bumping his elbow against her.

If Maka thought she couldn’t get in the pool before, now she definitely knew she couldn’t; she considered herself a solid cute, but standing beside all of her gorgeous friends would drop her down to childish levels. She was not particularly curvaceous, all slight waisted and lanky legs, skinny shoulders and meager breasts. She was not a goddess, was not bodacious and did not have the hips that Tsubaki did or the chest that Patti did, and she definitely did not exude the sexual confidence that Kim or Liz did.

She chewed her lip. Unfair. Also unnerving, because Soul was getting an undeniable eyeful of gorgeous figures and plush breasts and he was stuck standing next to her, tiny boobed extraordinaire, meister of the boy hips and knobby knees.

“Kid!” Patti chirped. “Kid, get in here!”

Golden eyes widened and he took several steps back from the pool. He straightened his shirt and shook his head, shoulders stern. “No, I think I’ll read instead. Thanks, but no thanks.”  
  
“Me too, actually!” Maka squeaked, stumbling backwards and accidently walking into Soul. He murmured an apology and peered down at her imploringly, searching for an answer for her rigid shoulders and jumpy wavelength.

And what could she tell him? She was feeling self conscious because oh, she’d just remembered that all of their friends were goddesses and she was the black sheep among them? That she didn’t have ripe breasts and wide hips, and that puberty hadn’t been nearly as kind to her as it had been to everyone else? That he was hot as hell and she didn’t want to disappoint him with her less than impressive frame?

“Maka!” Black*Star hollered. “Get those legs in here! I didn’t know you were a CHICKEN!”

He and Patti bockbockbocked while she took a cleansing breath; block it out, block it out… he was a nuisance, had always been a mild irritant and wasn’t doing it to hurt her. He was trying to get a rise out of her, trying to utilize her temper, and she wasn’t going to buy in. She chewed her lower lip and furrowed her brows.

“Star, cut the shit,” Soul huffed. “If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to.”

Tsubaki delicately slipped into the pool and glanced at her, blue eyes gentle and soothing. There was a crinkling in her soul – she couldn’t be mad at Tsubaki for being a bombshell, not while she looked so concerned and apologetic. What was wrong with her?

Maka blinked rapidly and gripped the hem of her skirt. It was like she was fourteen again, still the slightest among them and the target of all the childhood jeering and teasing.

She locked eyes with her partner and he raised a brow, mouth firm. They didn’t need words to communicate and Maka liked that, liked being able to wiggle her brow and tell him that she was uncomfortable and wanted to leave without having to say anything at all.

Blonde hair was tucked behind her ear and she summoned what was left of her pride. She was still wearing her skirt and his sweater when they left Kid’s place, fingers laced and her cheek pressed against his shoulder. Soul didn’t ask questions, just held her hand and lead her to his motorcycle with the same calm stoicness that he was known for. And that was fine – she wasn’t sure how willing she was to talk anyway, because there was mania in her brain and a shameful heat blustering across her cheeks.

She hugged herself to his back and wished she had something softer to press against him with. She wondered if he wished she did, too.

x

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of his razor clanking against the porcelain of their sink echoed through the bathroom. Maka coiled her arms tighter around her knees and pressed her face into the crease between her legs.

He was deceptively quiet for a long while, and then, “Huh?”

“… Sorry.”

“… Uh? Did you leave the milk out again or something? What do you have to be sorry for?”

Her bathwater had long gone lukewarm and she shivered. Her pink rubber duck bumped into her leg and she swatted it away, pivoting her head just enough to press her cheek against her knee and watch him as he regarded her. His brows furrowed and she knew he was trying to figure her out.

He was sinful standing there in his boxers and nothing else. Puberty had been so good to her partner. It was hard to believe that the gorky boy who drooled too much, with the shark teeth and the chest bisected by stitching had turned into such an attractive man. She lingered on his back, sleek and slim and she eyed his delightful back muscles and shoulder blades. He had such wide shoulders and such a tiny waist. It made her stomach flare and heat pool in her throat, made her want to kiss along the length of his spine and memorize the taste of his taut skin.

He was a prize. He was more than just a slab of meat and hunk of a man, but she told herself that openly gawking at him was okay because he was her partner and she loved him and respected him, but she also thought he was a hot piece of ass.

“… No,” she murmured. “Sorry you got stuck with the not hot one.”

Soul squinted at her. “What the fuck?”

Heat flooded her and she chewed her lip. “You know… partners. Girlfriends. All of our friends are hot and I’m not.”

“Is that why you wanted to leave?” he shifted his weight. “I just through Black*Star was getting on your nerves.”

She laughed humorlessly. If only it was that simple; Black*Star was always on her nerves, always had been on her nerves and probably always would be on her nerves, but she didn’t have to compete with him for Soul’s attention. She was pretty damn sure that Soul was into boobs, and although Black*Star was beefy and muscular, he did not have the same equipment that she did. She could at least take solace in knowing that he was not in the running for hotness, not on Soul’s scale.

He shifted and she watched him wiggle out of his underwear. It still brought a pinkness to her face and still made her squirm and hug herself tighter – she couldn’t help it, even if she’d seen him in various states of undress before, because she was frustratingly attracted to him and he was a god among men, in her humble opinion. She’d seen all of their friends naked, sans Kid, and still only had eyes for him.

She gawked a little. “Um?”

Soul lumbered over her and stood by the edge of the tub; she struggled not to stare at the trail of hair that lead to the snowy promised lands.

“Scoot,” he said, and there was a dark promise in his eyes. Warmth coiled itself in her abdomen and she pressed her legs together tightly. “I’m coming in.”

She wet her lips, swallowed noisily and did as she was told.

He sunk in behind her, legs straddling her hips from behind and tugged her back against his chest. His chin tucked against the curve of her neck and she gasped softly, lightly, just enough to earn a hand smoothing down the side of her leg and a kiss to her shoulder. He was all heat and warm breaths puffing against her skin, thawing her until she loosened her shoulders and murmured his name.

His thumb brushed along the curve of her knee. “Legs down?” he breathed, and she whimpered. “Needa’ check something real quick.”

She uncoiled herself and his palm smoothed down her thighs, tenderly leading her legs down until she was presented to the wall before her. She mumbled about how he had an awful view, how even from where he was he still wouldn’t see full breasts or round hips and he bit her in response. His teeth were pinpricks of heat and a delicious sting; he didn’t press deep enough to break skin, just enough to illicit a reaction and earn himself a groan of his name.

She was a blushing beacon of pinkness, the color incandescent and suffocating. He hummed her name and brushed his fingers along the under of her breast.

“Soul?” she breathed.

He rumbled behind her, his voice rough with fascination. “You’d blow them all out of the water.”

x

“I’m sorry,” he echoed. “I was kind of a shit when we were kids.”

They never fooled around in the light. They usually touched in the darkness of the night, with the shades shut and her light flicked off. He’d never questioned it and never thought twice about it, always just accepted her rules because her comfort was of utmost importance.

He realized the error in his ways – ,maybe she wanted the lights off because she was afraid he wouldn’t like what he saw.

Stupid. He was lucky to have her; she was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, all long legs and soft thighs, perky breasts and prominent collarbones. He had to wonder if she’d seen her hipbones and knew what they did to him, knew if the turned him on like nothing else. She had a darling freckle on her right breast and he was ashamed for not noticing it sooner. He kissed it lightly and she whimpered, the sound damp and unnervingly close to a cry.

He flickered a glance up and inwardly cringed at her tears. “Maka.”

“No,” she mewled, scrubbing at her face with such an intensity that he was afraid she’d rub herself raw; she was pinker than normal when he tugged her wrists down and kissed her fingers. “No, I–”

“You’re hot,” he repeated; he blushed vibrantly but pressed forward, because it wasn’t about his shyness and inability to interact correctly. It was about her and her body, about her looking in the mirror and seeing more than just skin and bones and muscle; she was more than just the sum of her parts and didn’t she know that? She didn’t have wide hips and huge boobs and that was okay, that was fine with him – he wanted what she did have, soft skin and tiny waist, slender neck and toned arms.

He breathed it against the skin of her clavicle and she sobbed aloud.

He trailed down further, lips brushing down soft skin and he stopped everywhere to admire and appreciate her – and he dictated it to her, told her that he loved her chest and he loved her ribs, loved the curve of her waist, loved her prominent hip bones. He left a trail of pink in his wake and Maka blushed so vibrantly that he swore she was glowing, all pale skin and rose hues that made him want to kiss her more.

“Maka,” he murmured against the flush of her hip. She quivered beneath him.  _“Hey._  I love you.”

She choked on the sound of her agreement and wiggled; he smoothed a hand down her stomach and pressed a kiss to the peak of her thighs, where she was alluringly pink and misty for other, more enticing reasons.

He made sure she cried for a different reason. A better reason, one that he kissed her nose for after and promised he meant.


End file.
